When Dreams Are All You Have
by wise cracking owl
Summary: Monica Geller is desperate and lonely and her only comfort is her imaginary dream world. Can the arrival of a handsome stranger break the monotony. CM Please read and review
1. Lonely

**A/N**- This is my first shot at a multi chapter fic so forgive me if it's not very good. It's a very Mondler fic but this chapter is very much Monica. I have plans for the other friends to figure in later chapters. I have a suspicion that this is not a very original idea but I was inspired by a GCSE English assignment so I haven't intentionally copied anyone. I would like to apologise if there is already a fic similar to this.

**Disclaimer**- Unfortunately nothing has changed since my first fic, I still don't own them! They are Bright, Kauffman and Crane's brilliant creations. Righty let's get on with it then!

When Dreams Are All You Have 

Monica Geller sighed resignedly. As the light faded and darkness descended, she was alone again. She was cold and scared, lying in an empty bed with only the shadows and the voices in her head for company.

The days were long and slow and unfulfilling. Every morning she would get up at 8.25 prompt, get dressed, eat cereal for breakfast. She even had a routine for breakfast. First she got out the bowl and spoon and then poured the cereal and then added the milk and she always washed up the bowl before the spoon. These little obsessions were her life. Monica always left the house at 9.45 and arrived at her dead end job at 10am giving her just enough time to grab a coffee before the morning meeting at 10.15. With the traffic from her building to work, the journey was very hard to predict but after months of experimenting she had discovered the best time to leave, the best route to take even down to the best lane. Monica's life was nothing if not perfectly synchronised.

Today was no different. True to fashion, the alarm sounded at 8.23, giving her just enough time to wake up so she would be out of bed at 8.25. Two hours later she was sat listening to her boss, sipping her coffee, with semi skimmed milk stirred anticlockwise, and making notes. It could have been any day.

The day went by just as Monica expected. No one spoke to her not even to say "good morning" or "how are you?" Monica was convinced no one even knew she existed, she was sure no one would miss her if she were gone. At precisely 5pm she left the office and headed for the car, parked in the same spot as usual- equidistant from the exit of the car park to the building's exit. Once at home, she ate alone, watched TV alone, cleaned the apartment alone, showered alone and went to bed alone at exactly midnight and never a minute sooner for if the days were hard, the nights were harder.

Her room was eerie in the dark- so empty. The wind howled through the window for it was always kept slightly open- just enough to relieve the intensity of the night's pressure. The door was ajar too. Monica couldn't be completely enclosed in her room, her isolation. Often she would hear creaking noises from the living room and would be convinced someone was in the apartment but who would come visit her anyway? Her life was so dull and uninspiring she couldn't belief that there would be anything of interest even for a burglar still it was hard to relax when she knew there was no-one who could protect her.

Monica longed for a partner. Someone to hold her at night and to wake up to in the morning, someone to kiss goodbye when she left the apartment, someone to miss her while she was at work. Monica often dreamt of such a man and he had warm welcoming blue eyes and a cute hair cut that made him look childish and perhaps a little vulnerable yet with strong arms and most importantly a big heart. She had imagined their wedding, when they would have children and what their names would be. True to her character, even her imaginary relationship was planned right down to the last detail. When reality got tough, Monica slipped into her own little universe where there was love and laughter. For many hours she could dream but she never seemed to be able to stay there. One way or another she would be brought back down to earth. This time was no different. No sooner had she put her youngest daughter Niamh to sleep, she was back at apartment 20, too big for one lonely person. Monica glanced at the other side of her bed. Nothing. She was alone once again.

The Next Day:

In the office, Monica sat at her desk typing, typing, typing. She kept her head down and her ears closed. Around her there was a considerable hubbub. Her co-workers, or rather people who sat near her but never acknowledged her existence were excitedly chattering away. Something had ruffled their feathers. Monica suspected one of the receptionists had been up to some out of hour's activities and their 2-faced co-workers were one minute sucking up to get the goss and the next bitching behind their backs. How Monica would have killed to be the subject of the gossip. Monica was vaguely aware of her subordinate Wendy gleefully twittering about a guy but she refused to listen properly- no point invading where she wasn't wanted not when she had her own world where everything was about her. The words on the screen of her white, flat screen Apple Mac slowly blurred and the scenes of chaos around her were no more. She was in her beautiful Westchester home, pushing her little girls in the swing set whilst her husband read the newspaper.

"I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met," Monica cursed silently as once again she was pulled dragging and screaming into the real world. She spun round rapidly wondering what favour they needed this time. She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by the sight in front of her,

"Hi," she managed to whisper. He smiled back at her and extended his hand,

"Chandler, Chandler Bing."

**A/N**- I'll leave it there for now. Sorry if this has rambled on a bit. I tend to take a while to get to my point! Please leave a review review. This is only my second fic and I need to know if I'm doing all right. I would also really appreciate any suggestions for better titles though I understand that you prob need to read more first.

Thanks, Stephanie


	2. Run

**A/N- **Thanks for all the reviews everyone for all the reviews. I don't think I properly clarified last time that Monica does not know any of the other friends yet and Ross is not her brother. I don't think it matter for either the first or second chapter but I thought I better clarify to avoid confusion. Anyway! This chapter introduces Chandler a bit more and involves both characters. Again I apologise if I have rambled a bit.

"Chandler, Chandler Bing."

Monica trembled with shock and anticipation, people simply did not talk to her especially not people this. "Hi, erm Monica Geller," she managed to mumble, smiling faintly. Chandler beamed,

"Pleased to meet you Monica, I'm going to be working with you for a while. Just temporarily mind. I'm covering Miss Chapley's maternity leave." Monica simply nodded. "Erm, well I guess I'll see you around then." Chandler waited for a reply from Monica, who, rapidly blushing, turned her attention back to her keyboard and continued her frantic typing. Chandler walked away, dejected.

Catherine Sutton, a co-worker, accosted, taking him quite by surprise. "Hi!" she shouted overenthusiastically, "I'm Catherine Sutton, call me Kate- everybody does," she continued rapidly, over pronouncing every word and therefore showering Chandler in saliva. He retreated a little but offered his hand out of politeness, "Chandler Bing."

"Yes, yes I overheard you talking to sulky over there." Chandler looked on quizzically, desperately trying to avoid eye contact. His eyes landed once again on Monica's desk. "Don't worry about her, she's always like that. Not really worth bothering with. No one talks to her. Not like me though of course I'm a real chatterbox I mean you'll have a job shutting me up! I sorta have a problem, I just open my mouth and oops…"

"I can guess." Chandler remarked slightly sarcastically. His gaze now transfixed on the beautiful brunette at the lone desk in the corner. He watched intently as she tucked a strand of glossy hair behind her ears, a slight smile forming on his face as he noticed the adorable look of concentration on her face. He remained staring at her for numerous minutes unaware of Kate's rambling in the background.

"So, where would you like to go then? There's a really nice sushi bar round the corner, although we probably wouldn't have any privacy there it's very popular with the girls," she signalled to her work pals during a rare pause in her chattering, "Hmm oh I know do you like Chinese food? There's this really cute restaurant down the street, would be perfect. What do you say? Chandler? Chandler?"

"What? Oh sorry er ye sure," Chandler replied hesitantly unsure of exactly what he was answering.

" OK great, I'll meet you at the entrance then. I knock off at 6. Can't wait!!" and with that she flounced off to her desk, leaving Chandler stunned.

As the clock struck 5pm, Monica shut down her computer and packed away her things, preparing for her usual quiet exit. She usually just slipped away unnoticed. So stunned she was when she heard Chandler call out "Bye Mon" to her that she dropped everything she was holding. "Perfect" thought Chandler to himself as he rushed over to help her gather her things. "You Ok?" he asked.

"Uh-hu fine, fine, no problem. Just a bit a clumsy idiot." Monica gushed nervously. Chandler smiled widely and rose with Monica. "Er well night then." Monica said. For a second Chandler thought he would let her walk away but Monica was too beautiful. He reached out to stop her, his eyes meeting her deep blues as she turned around. He tucked her hair behind her ears as he had seen her do earlier and swallowed hard as he asked, "Would you, er, like to go for a drink." He immediately regretted it though on seeing the look of terror on Monica's face. She paled significantly and began to chatter nervously but Chandler was sure he saw a sparkle in those intriguing eyes.

Monica's mind was working overtime. Did a guy just ask her out? Did that man really just stand in front of her and flirt? Monica was terrified, stunned. She didn't have a clue how to deal with this; she'd never needed any social skills. Her hands were sweating and she was vaguely aware that she was sort of dancing nervously in the rain, hopping from one foot to the other. She looked up momentarily and attempted to meet Chandler's gaze but it was all too scary. His eyes were fixed on hers and she recognised the frightening realisation that for once in her life she had somebody's entire attention- a most wonderful and yet petrifying thing. Monica gulped, furious with herself for what she was about to do. She looked apologetically at Chandler, turned and fled.

XXX 

Monica slammed the door shut and threw her coat onto the hanger, missing it entirely and letting it fall half-heartedly onto the floor. Her eyes followed its fall and she slumped dejectedly to the floor, sobbing tears of anger and frustration. Some one had expressed interest in her- a handsome and sweet man and she had run. Run away! She had turned and fled her dream. "Stupid, stupid, stupid woman!" she screamed, hating herself.

In the Chinese bar with Kate, Chandler replayed the day's events over and over in his head. Monica was stunning, she was fascinating and he had been attracted to her immediately. Chandler was no stranger to rejection probably because he found fault in everybody, for example Kate was a very pretty girl and clearly interested. She liked sport and beer, much to Chandler's surprise, but she talked too fast. Yep Chandler was a very picky person, he found fault in every girl. Not Monica, she was perfect but she clearly had issues.

A/N- I'm going to try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible, whilst I have the free time. Next: Monica takes the first step to overcome her problems when she opens up to Chandler and it turns out he has problems of his own. Please review. Thanks 


	3. Making Progress

**A/N**- This chapter picks up pretty soon after the last left off. It is much more dialogue based. We're getting into the nitty gritty of Monica's problems now. I'm not a psychologist though so please excuse me if this chapter isn't the best.

Chandler was still listening to poor Kate chatter on. Currently she was discussing her co-workers love life, attempting to fill Chandler in on the gossip. She'd just finished telling him what sports teams the office workers support. Chandler was desperate for a way out. He knew he should be grateful for Kate's effort to help him fit in but he could not get Monica out of his mind.

"Excuse me," Chandler apologised to Kate as he answered his phone, struggling to hide his relief at the forced pause in the conversation.

"H-hello? Chandler? I er got your number from work. Erm are you free to meet up? It's, it's Monica by the way." Chandler's expression changed from relief to ecstasy.

"Hi," he managed to say through his happiness. "Hi, yes, yes that would be great. Where?" Monica couldn't believe her luck; she was convinced she'd blown it.  
"Anywhere!" she joked, her happiness shining through as a rare smile graced her face. Chandler laughed appreciatively; he knew where he'd take her.

"Meet outside the office in 30mins?"

"Great! Thanks!" Monica put the phone down and stood silently for a few moments her grin widening. She was overcome with an unfamiliar emotion- happiness.

XXX 

Monica giggled, half with excitement and half with nerves, as Chandler led her to their date, his hands covering her eyes. Monica heard a door open and felt a sudden rush of cold air hit her. "Open your eyes." Chandler laughed. Monica looked out on a beautiful scene. She looked down and her gorgeous eyes met an equally gorgeous sight. Little lights twinkled all over, washing a golden glow on to the range of exquisite colours before her eyes. Monica was watching New York at night from the roof of Chandler's building. Suddenly the city, which was so huge and so intimidating and so hectic, was a haven. The light was no longer harsh, but romantic and for the first time ever Monica truly appreciated how wonderful New York was.

"Wow" she remarked quietly, gazing up at Chandler who had wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. "Chandler, I think I owe you an apology. Before I just panicked that's all. I don't usually, I mean I've never…" Chandler put his finger to her lips and smiled.

"It's OK."

"No, No it's not OK. It's never been OK," she paused and took a deep breath, "I'm going to do this," she said matter of factly with a steely determination that Chandler found endearing. Monica was stunned with herself but immensely proud, here she was sat in front of the most wonderful looking man about to open her heart to him. She realised she barely knew him but there was something about those eyes that told her she could trust him.

"I'm listening."

"I don't know what it is exactly, not really but I'm terrified of people. I can't hold a conversation; I can't smile without blushing either. I don't know whether that's why I don't have any friends or whether it's because no-one's ever taken any interest in me that I'm like that," Monica shrugged sadly, "It's a vicious circle either way though. I can't let anyone in because, because I've never met any one who wanted to know me."

"I can't imagine why," Chandler said honestly without a hint of his usual sarcasm, "I mean you're beautiful, you're sweet. Why wouldn't people want to know you?"

"I don't know. I don't but no one ever has. When I was a kid no one wanted to play with me, when I was at high school other students hated being partnered up with me. I didn't go to university because I wouldn't have fitted in and I couldn't stand the thought of being alone when everyone would be out partying and stuff." A few tears strayed from her lonely eyes but Monica swiftly wiped them away before they could stain her porcelain face.

"It's OK to cry, you know." Chandler said and then did a double take. Since when did he cry, he simply didn't. Perhaps him and Monica had more in common than he'd ever imagined.

"I just don't." she said. "I haven't cried since I was a kid, my mother always frowned on it, said it was a sign of weakness." At that statement something clicked in Chandler.

"Your parents?" he asked gently, "Did they put a lot of pressure on you?"

Monica sighed. "You're good," she remarked gratefully prompting a smile from Chandler. "Nothing was ever good enough for them. I would try and try and try but it would just never work. My grades weren't high enough and my appearance wasn't good enough. I would get told off for not talking to their guests but then told my conversation wasn't good enough if I did." She allowed herself to laugh a little at the irony. Chandler took her sweaty palm in his and traced it slowly with his finger,

"Do you think that your parents crushed all your confidence, Mon?" Chandler ventured. "I mean, it's possible surely that the reason your alone is because you built up walls around you, walls that you built because your parents convinced you that you were a failure?"

"Quite the psychologist aren't you!" Monica joked, smiling gratefully. Chandler could see that she was beginning to relax. He put an arm round Monica as she continued. "Look at this city," she began, "It's huge. There are so many people out there. So many people, how do I know that I'm talking to a nice one and then I'm just one person amongst thousands and thousands, why should they bother talking to me?"

"You're not answering the question, darling."

"My parents are the only people who ever speak to me, even if it's just to put me down. I can't admit that they're my problem, I can't."

"You just did, sweetheart." Chandler was getting a much clearer picture now. It was clear as the street lights below him that Monica was a victim of her parents' failings. "It strikes me, Mon that your parents are the people with a problem. They created such a beautiful daughter and then abused her. I don't know your parents sweetie but it seems to me that they're taking their own failings out on you and in the process they're causing you unnecessary pain. You're the victim Monica, not the culprit. They've made you believe that you're worthless when it's simply not true. Nobody is." Chandler stopped suddenly. His words had struck a chord within Monica but she was not alone. Chandler had just expressed anger that he'd never allowed to surface before.

"You're right of course you are. How are you guessing all this? It's just that it's too late."

"It's never too late," he paused, " and I'm not guessing. I'm speaking from experience. Turns out you're not the only one in denial."

A/N- What's Chandler talking about?? Next chapter will deal with Chandler's problems but I'm going to try to make it a little more to the point than this one.

Please keep reviewing.


	4. Helping you, helping me

**A/N**- We follow directly on from the last chapter. In this I deal with Chandler's issues. It's another very dialogue based chapter, very similar to the last except with a role reversal. I hope it's not too similar.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I'm still new at this so it's really great to get your thoughts.

Anyway enjoy!

"…Turns out you're not the only one in denial." Chandler paused and looked out at the city below him- the city in which he'd hidden his problems for all these years by busying himself amongst the rat race, so much so that even he had forgotten his own issues.

"How do you mean?" Monica's curious voice brought him back to attention and he shook his head quickly, shrugging his shoulders, " Oh, nothing."

"No," Monica persisted, "Come on."

"No really it's nothing. Anyway this is about helping you."

"Oh no," Monica almost laughed, "This is about us getting to know each other. Come on now, I won't let you shy out of this one. 1 minute ago you just made me realised that talking helps. I don't want to feel in debt to you. Let me help you Chandler. Let's help each other." Monica's words rang true and Chandler smiled honestly at his date. Such an inadequate word he thought. It was odd how two people who'd known each other for little longer than a day could be so open with each other. Aware of Monica's beautiful eyes resting on him, waiting, he began,

"I guess," he ventured warily, " I guess, that the reason I was able to work all that stuff out about your parents is because I know what it's like." Monica sat listening intently. Chandler elaborated, "You never allowed yourself to admit that your parents caused you all your pain and I, well, I made myself forget."

"Your parents were critical too?"

"Not so much critical. They just, just were," Chandler searched his deepest emotions for the word, "passive," he stated. "After they split up, my Dad decided he was guy and ran out on us to star in a burlesque show in Vegas." Chandler looked vaguely embarrassed as Monica desperately tried to suppress a giggle. "Yeah. I know, precisely. My Dad made me a laughing stock." Chandler's cheeks reddened prompting Monica, unsure of whether he was embarrassed or angry, to reach out and take his hand. Chandler gave her palm a grateful squeeze and with new confidence continued, "He was a freak show and I was his son. I was physically weak and I looked odd and I was lonely and vulnerable and he left. He just left." An intense silence followed.

"Chandler, is this about your dad embarrassing you or about him deserting you?"

"Now who's the psychologist!" Monica looked sheepishly at Chandler, a half embarrassed, half apologetic look on her stunning, porcelain face. "It hurt, you know. It just hurt. I was growing up, I was unstable, I needed him and he left. I mean couldn't he have just stuck with it a little longer. Did I not mean enough to him just to put up with it for another year until I was settled."

"Chandler," Monica paused momentarily, searching for the right words. She was aware that what she was about to suggest may not be the comfort Chandler was looking for, "Chandler, would you really have wanted your dad to pretend? Be something he wasn't? Be just as lonely as you were." Chandler stared deep into the compelling blue of her lovely eyes, before searching his soul for the answer.

"No." Chandler was unable to continue. He bottled up and choked back bitter tears. Tears? Not able to find the strength to fight back his emotion, he let tears flow rapidly from his own blue eyes. His anger at his weakness soon faded though as relief washed over him. "I'm, I'm crying," he stated almost proudly, "I'm actually crying! God this is great!" At this point the intensity of the night's discussions became too much for Monica and she burst into tears of her own. Not typical tears though, tears of laughter and happiness. Her eyes met Chandler's and he too began to giggle. Within a few magical seconds, the two were laughing hysterically through their watery eyes.

They were crying. And god, did it feel good. The tears that slid easily down their rosy cheeks were a long overdue release. Drying their faces, they smiled. A mutual, wide and genuine smile. Regaining his composure, Chandler mused, "You're so right. My father was just being honest with himself, the way I've never been. It wasn't his fault I was lonely. I should have learnt from him. He expressed himself the way I should have done." A huge pressure that had been stored in Chandler since his childhood was finally released and everything suddenly made sense. Chandler had a new found respect for his absent father.

"Parents eh? Mine screwed me up so bad that I blamed myself for the excuse of a person I thought and was and you blamed yours for your insecurities. What a pair we are!" Chandler nodded enthusiastically in agreement, as Monica continued, "I guess we were more alike than we could have guessed. Both had issues with parents. I let mine crush me and I compensated form my insecurities with compulsive organisation."

"Yeah, and I hid behind sarcasm and jokes."

"I thought the only way I would ever be happy was too live in a dream world." Chandler gave her an intrigued look. "I had an imaginary family. A husband, children. A big house in the suburbs. If I was upset I would retreat there and for a while I was a mom and a wife but it never lasted. I always came round and it was always awful again."

"Not anymore." Monica shook her head. "As for me I wallowed in self pity. I was the stupid class clown, who was easily broken, and scared."

"You were, Chandler. Years back, now you're a sensitive and wonderful man." Chandler blushed and mouthed thank you before adding,

"And all we had to do to realise it was cry. That simple. How stupid it is, if we'd only done this years ago we never would have…" Monica put a finger to his lips before he could finish and took it upon herself to end the sentence herself.

"… had this moment." A long silence followed as the pair pondered this statement. Chandler found himself once again desperately trying to find a word, an expression that was suitable but words failed him. Instead, in a moment of terrifying yet totally amazing impulsiveness he reached out and took Monica's face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

Monica ran her hands through Chandler's hair and willingly and gratefully, returned the kiss. The streetlights faded around them and the stars were the only light resting on them. From a high-rise apartment block, looking down on New York City Monica and Chandler were lost in their moment and for the first time since they came to the city, they felt like nothing and no one could hurt them.

**A/N-** I had planned for a few more chapters and to have Chandler introduce Mon to the others etc and him help her to overcome her problems but then it kinda went off in another direction with them both helping each other and this seems like quite a good place to stop. Please let me know what you all think. Maybe I'll just add an epilogue or something?

Please review and tell me what you think I should do and what you thought of the chapter. Thanks


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